Eyes Meet
by ReadYourHeartOut
Summary: Grell is being ignored by both William and Sebastian, so he goes to his friend the Undertaker to complain. He soon finds out, however, that they have more in common than he thought, and maybe talking isn't the best solution to his problems...


**A/N: This is the product of I thought I keep having about my Grell and Undertaker. See, I write them as friends in my usual SebbyxGrell stories, and it always seems to me that they find themselves in situations of…sexual tension, shall we say. But at moments when nothing can come of it (because Grell is already involved). So I arranged things this time so they **_**can**_** make something of it. Enjoy.**

…

"Willia~m, please! You can't just ignore me!" I was making it very difficult for him to do, sprawling across his desk. "You've been neglecting me all day, mister. Don't you feel bad at all?"

"I've already told you; I have work to do. I can't be bothered by your 'needs' at the moment." Ouch. Shot down, just like that, and he didn't even bat an eye!

"But Will, I can't stand it! You have to give me _some_ attention! I'm starving for it here…" I whimpered. "Just a few minutes, just _talk_ to me—" He silenced me with a glance up over his glasses. His gaze was sharp and cold, and his voice dripped icicles.

"Sutcliff. I have work to do. So should you. Stop pestering me and find something productive to do." Mollified and devastated by his cruelty, I crawled off of his desk and slunk out of his office. I couldn't stand being ignored that way… So instead of _pestering_ him further, I left the building, left town, left our realm entirely. Instead, I went to the human world to seek out another conquest and source of attention.

After sneaking my way carefully onto the grounds of his master's estate, I slipped into the kitchen to find my dear Sebby working diligently on some elaborate dessert, all covered in whipped cream and sprinkled with chocolate shavings. It looked delicious, but not as much as him… I sauntered over to lean against the counter and look up at him admiringly.

"Hello, darling," I purred. No answer. I frowned and tried again. "What do you call this, Sebby?" Still not a word; he seemed intensely focused. Striving for any attention, good or bad, I reached to swipe a bit of the cream, but he caught my hand before I could.

"This is for my master; I'll ask you not to contaminate it with your fingers," he said flatly, dark eyes finally turning toward me, frozen over with cool indifference.

"You don't want to give me a taste…?" I asked suggestively, licking my lips.

"I'm busy," he responded, releasing my hand and placing his beautiful treat on a tray. "Find another way to entertain yourself. Elsewhere."

"But Sebby—!" He was already walking out the door, heedless of my protests. Men! How did they expect me to live with so little attention? Thoroughly distraught by my bad luck with _both_ love interests, I left Phantomhive Manor and started toward London, on my way to visit one of the few people I could actually call my friend. This friend was a mortician and an informant of sorts, a man with a sense of humor and a morbid fascination with death—by human standards, at least. He was a Reaper, like me, but he'd been retired for years. It seemed he was always the one I came to when I had problems; he'd listen to me complain and give me advice. Advice that was usually followed by a warning not to trust his judgment.

"I just don't know what to do with them! It's not good for my ego when they both reject me in one day…" I mumbled, slumped over the end of a coffin.

"Within an hour, no less," he added, giggling, not looking up from the book he was currently poring over.

"You aren't helping," I grumped.

"Give them a bit of time, milady; they'll likely come around when there's no more work to be done. And probably at an inconvenient time for you. Ehehe…" He paused on a certain page, running his slender fingers across what was probably a gruesome illustration of human anatomy with an unnerving grin on his face.

"I don't have that kind of patience." Curious, I got up and went to his "desk"—a makeshift structure made of one unfinished pine box on top of another—to see what was so interesting. The picture that had caught his attention was one of several photos of a _very_ messy crime scene, one with several victims and _so much_ blood, all printed in boring greyscale. I sat down in his lap, causing him to chuckle again, and started to look over those pages with him. "Hm. For a human, this is actually pretty impressive work!" He laughed out loud at that.

"Would you like to know a secret?" Leaning forward a little, he spoke over my shoulder. "These murders weren't performed by a human."

"Oh? By what, then? A demon, maybe? Or…surely not one of us…" He continued to snicker, thoroughly amused, until I put two and two together. "Wait…_you_—?"

"It was some time ago," he confessed, fingertips still touching that one picture. "Before I took on my current profession."

"Hm. I've never seen your work before," I said thoughtfully, inspecting the pictures more closely now. How fascinating to think of him actually killing people instead of just preparing them to be buried! "Were you still an operational Reaper at this time?"

"Oh, no; I'd long since retired. I found myself with a strong desire to end a life as I had become accustomed to doing. I wanted to take things apart, to…play in a way I was never allowed to do when they were the ones assigning me. I did all this without the use of my Death Scythe, in order to avoid an altercation with the Court…"

"Hm. I never even thought to do that," I laughed. "I guess I love my Scythe too much. So…what did you use?" In answer, he gestured to a bag which lay a few feet away. With ill-hidden excitement, I retrieved it and returned to sit sideways on his lap. I opened the case to find a set of doctor's tools, possibly some of the same tools he used on his "guests" there in his morgue. Unable to curb my curiosity, I picked up a scalpel and looked it over in fascination. "You killed them just with these…?"

"I did. I gave them a sedative first, of course. No pain, no struggling, and I was given the time I needed to truly enjoy myself. This one…" He reached up to the book and tapped on the picture of a woman, one whose cuts weren't quite as measured and precise. "…woke before I finished." I glanced back to see him gazing at the picture reminiscently, almost fondly. "She saw what was happening…and she asked me why. I hadn't any idea what to tell her. How could I explain it in a way she might understand? There was blood everywhere…and she asked me to save her. She must have been delirious. And I started to laugh. Such a thing to ask…!" He was giggling under his breath now, putting a hand up under his hair to cover his eyes. "I laughed until the blood was cold and her breath was gone. I had never laughed that way in my life. I'd never felt so joyful. Killing that way was nothing like all the scripted, ordered deaths I'd granted in the past. Only after leaving behind their rules and conditions did I truly begin to enjoy the act of taking life…" Still grinning, he pushed his bangs back, and as they so rarely did, his eyes met mine.

And suddenly, I was kissing him. How it happened, I couldn't be sure, but with all that talk of blood and death, I just got so worked up that I couldn't take it anymore. Our lips locked together, and his tongue slid against mine, warm, more eager than expected. Hot shivers ran through my stomach. My hands slid up to his shoulder to hold on tighter—but he suddenly broke away from me for a sharp gasp of air. I quickly realized why; the scalpel still in my hand was keen as ever, and it had sliced right into his neck. Breathing heavily and with hazy eyes, I acted without thinking.

"Sorry," I mumbled, leaning down to lick up the redness that was leaking out.

"No need to apologize," he answered. As my tongue dug into the wound, he hissed softly and gripped my thigh with one hand. "Make it deeper and leave a scar; it adds character. Ehe~…" The tool in my hand fell to the ground, and I moved to sit up, to straddle his legs, all the while biting and sucking at the gash on his neck. It was practically an instinct; cause pain, make it last, make it worse… He didn't try to stop me, letting his hand slide up my leg to rest on my hip. When he spoke, his breath fell hotly on my ear. "Hm… Come now, milady; I'm sure that lovely smile of yours has more ability to rend flesh than _that_. Do share it with me…" He really _wanted_ me to hurt him and leave marks…! Will and Sebby would never let me do that… Unwilling to pass up the opportunity, I did as he asked, sank my teeth into his neck and made the slash deeper, wider. More blood flowed, and a sound reached my ears like nothing I'd ever heard from him. It was a deep moan, and I could feel him shudder beneath me. "Better…"

At that point, I started to come back to myself and realize what I was doing, so I pulled away to look at him. What had come over me? How embarrassing…

"Are you all right?" I asked quietly, running my fingertips along the wound I'd made.

"Oh, I'm just fine," he sniggered. "A new scar, and under _such circumstances_. It's unexpected, but quite a pleasant surprise." His hand caught one of mine and brought it up to his mouth, rubbing it against his lower lip.

"Mm." I watched him do this, feeling a sort of warm fluttering in my stomach. Unusual… "Umm…maybe I should go…" Sebby wouldn't like this. Neither would William.

"Maybe you should." Still, his smile stayed in place. He didn't look up at me, too busy using one of my fingertips to trace around his lips. Then my hand slipped, my fingers touched his tongue—

"Oh~…" I moaned by accident, taking my hand back. His grin just widened, and now he reached up to run his fingers down my chin, long nails trailing and making me shiver. His hand came to rest on my pulse.

"When you and I first met, you were sleeping, with no heartbeat at all," he recalled. "And now, just feel it flutter! Like a trapped bird." He sat up, closer, and let his lips brush that spot instead.

"Stop it," I pleaded softly, and he chuckled.

"Your heart?" The warmth of his breath on my skin was maddening…

"You know what I mean…!"

"But I'm intrigued now. You'd leave me alone with my thoughts?"

"…what sort of thoughts?" Maybe the same sort I was having. The sort I had never before had about my harmless "friend."

"What sort indeed…" He laughed, his hand rubbing along the edge of my pants.

"But Sebby…and Will…"

"Ah, the ones who were so engrossed in their work that they had no time for you at all. Yes, it would be best to stay faithful to them, in case they should decide they want you again," He leaned back in his chair and continued thoughtfully, "But then, men of their kind always find more work to do, don't they?"

"But you and I aren't… I mean, we've never—"

"We just did, didn't we? You come to me often, milady, to talk about _them_. Has the thought never crossed your mind that I might be able to do more for your problems than simply talk about them?" It sort of surprised me, too; I had really never thought about it.

"I…guess I just didn't realize you would do things like that," I confessed, and he laughed at that, too.

"The opportunity rarely presents itself. But at the moment…" He licked his lips and tilted his head to one side, allowing his bangs to fall aside and once more reveal his eyes. "You've aroused my curiosity. Why not stay and satisfy it…?" Oh, of course he just _had_ to phrase it like that. I let out a whine of frustration and leaned my head on his shoulder, struggling with myself. Strange as it was, I _wanted_ him like crazy…but…there were reasons not to, weren't there? His lips met my neck, and my stomach did summersaults. For someone who almost certainly had very little experience, he was making a very impressive argument… A moment later, there was a sharp pain against my neck, and a loud moan passed my lips. He bit me…? He _bit_ me! That was the last straw; in seconds, I'd captured his lips again, kissing him roughly and grabbing hold of his coat to hold him closer.

The next thing I knew, I was up on his desk, his hands gripping at my thighs while I fumbled with the buttons on his coat. Once it was off, however, he wasn't any more exposed, and I growled in irritation at the sight of his next layers. So many damn buttons! Too many to deal with; instead, I just pulled sharply on the garment; fabric tore, buttons were ripped off, and I finally got to see him shirtless. He was pale as death, ever paler than I was, and I found his chest crossed with scars just like the ones on his face and neck. I was sure each one had a story, but I could hear them another time; at the moment, I licked my lips and ran my fingers slowly down that expanse of white skin. He shivered slightly from the light touches, but didn't stop me.

"Hm. Your eyes have gone mydriatic," he informed me, and I made a distracted sound in askance. "Ahem, your pupils are dilated. Perhaps it's from the dim light…but it can also be caused by strong sexual arousal." He giggled at those words like a child, hands sliding up the inside of my thighs. Trust him to know the medical terms for everything that was happening to my body at the time… I didn't have time to dwell on his words, though; I was too busy squirming as he reached to unbutton my pants. My, but it was getting warm in that room…! Once I'd hastily slipped out of my own shirt, he took it upon himself to lean forward and run his tongue, soft and wet, slowly up the length of my chest.

"Oh…" I whimpered, fingers tangling into his hair, knocking his hat to the floor. His mouth worked expertly, tongue lapping at _all_ the right spots, sucking softly at each pink nub on my chest, even using his teeth to take my breath away. It seemed we both had a penchant for pain; as he was biting firmly across my shoulder, my eyes started to drift in and out of focus, and my breathing faltered a bit.

"Hm, what's this…?" His hand slid between my legs, into my underwear, where my body was making it clear that his treatment was working. By that point, I couldn't bring myself to form words, but my moaning and panting conveyed my point well enough. As his fingers thoroughly inspected me, he giggled something under his breath about "rigor mortis." He then surprised me by bending down and taking that hardness inside his mouth. My breath stopped. Oh…his mouth…was hot…! Neither Sebastian nor Will had _ever_…and now, he moved, his tongue rubbed and explored, and…

"Oh, God…" I gasped, lying flat across his desk and panting hotly into the air. "That…that's…ooooh…!" My fingers tugged on his silver hair, and he groaned from the pain, and with his mouth covering me, that just felt—oh, incredible! My constant writhing and calling out as I strove to deal with this new sensation went unanswered, but his fingers did manage to sneak into the edge of my pants and pull them downward as he worked, eventually getting me completely bare. He then sat up and observed me with such intense fascination that I couldn't help but blush. "Wh-what are you looking at…?"

"There's so much to examine; I hardly know where to begin," he answered excitedly—as though I was some sort of uncharted land, and it was his duty to map out every curve.

"Mh. Let me make a suggestion." I sat up just enough to hook my arms around his neck, then dragged him down for another heated kiss. Since I was lying back, he was forced to bend over me, putting his hips at a very convenient angle with mine. To encourage him further, I wiggled closer and ground my backside against him. This signal didn't pass his notice, and he grinned against my lips.

"As good as a place as any…" While I was busily sucking on his earlobe, he reached down with one hand to unfasten his own pants, and when I chanced a look down, I could see that all his "examining" me had gotten to him, too. Funny, no scars there. But as he came closer, I realized that he was about to start moving a little too fast for me.

"W-wait a second, you can't just go inside like that," I told him, sitting up a bit. Just the sight of him hard and wanting me like that sent chills down my spine. "Oh…I mean, you have to help me get ready first…!" It was so embarrassing to say out loud. For once, he actually frowned.

"Nonsense. You underestimate your body's abilities, milady," he replied, disregarding my pleas and starting to try to press inside.

"Hey, hold on; it isn't even wet…!" I squealed, wriggling away from him.

"Ah. My mistake." With that, he pulled me closer, dropped to his knees, and put his mouth to work _there_, spreading me apart and letting his tongue tease me cruelly.

"Haa!" I couldn't help but cry out in shock; this was another feeling I'd never had before, and it only made me hotter. "Mmh, that's good—I…aah, please…I want…!" I wasn't even sure what I was asking for… Once he was satisfied that I was ready, he righted himself, still grinning, with a wet streak trailing from the corner of his mouth.

"You change your mind so quickly; it's difficult to keep up," he snickered. His hands held onto my hips, and I could feel him rubbing against that now-wet opening.

"P-please," I mumbled. "I can't…it'll hurt…"

"Oh, but what's pleasure without a bit of pain," he purred in my ear, pressing closer, harder. "Relax…" It wasn't easy, but I tried my hardest, and he slid suddenly inside, stealing my breath away once more.

"Haa…o-oh…" I breathed, my fingernails digging into his back. It was…a lot. Hot and full, and I let out a heavy sigh against his shoulder. It was _almost_ too much to handle, but as I forced my breathing to stay regular, I slowly got used to it. And his heavy breathing in my ear made things a little easier. His hips shifted, pressed in a little further, and I moaned breathlessly.

"Hmmm…whatever I was expecting…this isn't it," he chuckled.

"Nnh…is that…a good thing…?" I managed; focusing on speaking helped to distract me and keep me from getting too overwhelmed.

"Without question." Obviously at least _a little_ sympathetic to my pain, he moved oh, so slowly out, giving me a few moments to pant and try to reorganize my thoughts—before thrusting back in, hard. A shriek tore from my lips and I wrapped my legs around him tight, trying to incite some pity and get him to slow down.

"P-please…it's so much," I gasped, fingernails scratching so hard that I must have been drawing blood.

"It can't be the worst you've ever gone through. And if I _don't_ move, how will you adjust…?" he muttered under his breath, almost like he wasn't even talking to me. His hips still moved, slowly in and out, and now there was a rhythm, making things hot and…maybe a little easier. All that intense heat and friction actually had a sort of numbing effect, and my lower body was just tingling and fiery. Once I was no longer in pain, my shaky legs relaxed, and he took this as permission to go faster, panting in my ear and clouding my mind; oh, who knew he had all this in him? I never would've expected he could be so…

"Ooo~h…!" My arms tightened around his back, and I was moaning out loud with every hot thrust. "Aah, aahn, so…deep…aaah, it's good…!" His breath flowed across my shoulder, against my ear, and he spoke distractedly.

"Fascinating," he breathed. "Mnh, it's true: experience _is_ the best teacher. And what a pleasant lesson to learn…" He caught my earlobe in his mouth and nibbled on it, only working me up more. With so many different sensations at once—pleasure, pain, heat, friction—I was starting to lose my grasp on my surroundings and _feel_ even more. And everything I felt, all the desire and anticipation, it was all his doing.

"Haa, incredible. I've never…_never_ felt…" His catering to my masochism, my violent nature, must have really affected me. Other Reapers weren't like that. They didn't enjoy our morbid truths. But he was different; he was like me; he reveled in the beauty of pain and blood, was fascinated by how our bodies worked—and what could make them stop. This man, this "friend" of mine, was a _real_ God of Death, and that was just exactly what I needed. "Mmmm, faster…don't stop…"

"Wouldn't dream of it, milady…" His fingernails dug into my hips, holding on so tightly that I might have had bruises in the morning—I _prayed_ I would have bruises. Bruises to match the bite marks on my shoulder, painful souvenirs of this glorious torture. Who could begin to ask for more? As my body was constantly heating up, I let out soft whines of longing. I was getting closer, and my friend could clearly tell. He grinned beneath the shadows of his bangs and purred, "Something you need…? Tell me and I'll gladly supply it."

"Nh…I just…" Saying it aloud made my face flush, but I licked my lips and told him anyway. "I'm so close…if you'll just touch me…I…ahh…"

"Hmm, you're suffering, aren't you?" He snickered breathlessly and reached down between my legs to help me.

"Yes! Oh, just like that—I…ah…mmmmhh!" When my body couldn't hold out any longer, I bucked my hips and screamed for him (just the sort of noise one wants to hear coming from a morgue). My arms wrapped around his shoulders and I pulled him down for an urgent and needy kiss. Tongues wrestled, moans clashed, and he caught me in a fierce embrace as he finished, too. For several moments, we were locked together on top of his desk, bodies flooded with heat, gasps and moans filling the air. Then, finally, he broke away from me, and I reached up shakily to push his bangs aside and gaze into his eyes. Something about those eyes had me hooked, and I found myself smiling, exhausted. He smiled back and gave me a much softer kiss.

"Hm. Your body is a wonder, milady," he informed me, lying one hand over my heart and waiting as it started to calm down. "Just lovely."

"I'm…glad you think so," I mumbled, trying to focus on…something. Anything. But all that sudden exertion had really taken a toll on me. Realizing this as well as I did, my friend carefully picked me up and sat back in his chair with me in his lap. So comfortable.

"Syncope is it now…?" he observed, stroking my hair. I didn't have the energy to ask what that meant. "Hm. Never fear, milady; I'll give you sanctuary from your less pleasant affairs as long as you like." I didn't answer. My gaze was focused on the still-red wound on his neck, and I kissed it gently before losing consciousness.

…

**A/N: Because I'm lazy, this will probably just be a one-shot forever. I may come back and add onto it in the distant future, but for now, please enjoy it as-is, and let me know what you thought.**


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